


Heat of the moment

by Lady_Talla_Doe



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Canon Universe, Explicit Consent, Hand Jobs, M/M, Non-Con Bondage, Power Play, Viren discovers he has More Kinks then He Thinks, becomes con bondage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-13 06:08:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17482610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Talla_Doe/pseuds/Lady_Talla_Doe
Summary: A argument in Harrow's chambers gets out of hand, and Harrow and Viren both discover something they never expected.





	Heat of the moment

**Author's Note:**

> Harrow's kink is when the vanillawhitebreadoatmealcookie man gets hot and sweaty with socially frowned upon activities.   
> Happy birthday Harrow.

* * *

* * *

 

“ _Enough_ Viren!” Harrow yelled, throwing off Viren’s hand from his shoulder. He turned on him, frustration giving way to true anger. “Stop this _planning_ of yours! I am not going to be manipulated by some soft touches like a green, starry eyed boy.”

He was angry that Viren would try to use this new, confusing thing that was blooming between them to push his own agenda. Harrow’s feelings ran deep; deep enough to worry him. At the beginning of this conversation, Viren had almost swayed him, leaning against his arm, watching the trees sway in the courtyard beyond the window. His words had been soft, almost speculative. A casual conversation rather then politics.

But Viren was a clever, calculating man. Harrow knew this.

The surprise on his advisor’s face was very genuine, but it gave way very quickly to a look Harrow could long identify as calculating. Viren trying to figure out how he could turn this situation around, if he could manipulate it back into his favour. Harrow grit his teeth, supressing the sharp pang of hurt, and shoved Viren back with a hand to his chest. He stumbled, and the calculated look dropped away.

Harrow felt  a surge of warm satisfaction. So he did it again, and Viren yielded to him again, growing alarm on his face.

“Harrow—” Viren started, but Harrow cut him off by shoving him a third time. Viren hit the edge of the bed, and fell back, catching himself on his elbows.

He looked up at Harrow in apprehension from his new angle, far more vulnerable then before. This wasn’t like him; Harrow could count on one hand the number of times he’d lost his temper with Viren, and from memory, he’d never physically touched him. This was a new, hovering on dangerous area, heightened by their shifting relationship and Viren’s undeniable nature.

He had the best intentions, but Harrow wished he would leave those intentions outside this room, outside of his chambers. Their time together was a fragile, precious thing. The abuse of it hurt terribly.

“No, Viren. No more attempting to convince me. No more manipulation.” said Harrow firmly, advancing on Viren. His voice was hard, left no room for argument, and Viren shrank back from him warily. He didn’t look scared, but his breath was quick and he seemed to have finally realized he’d made a major error.

“Harrow—” Viren tried again.

Harrow had had enough. He pushed Viren back forcefully until he was flat against the blankets, leaning over him as he pinned him to the bed with a hand heavy on Viren’s chest, his fingers touching the hollow of Viren’s throat. He felt it rise and fall as Viren swallowed heavily. Harrow braced himself with his other arm beside Viren’s head, knee on the edge of the bed between Viren’s legs.

“ _Your Majesty_ , not Harrow. If you insist on this manipulation, then you’ll be using my title.”

Viren had lost that look of calculation in his grey eyes.

Harrow knew he was going to far, reacting too harshly. Viren’s chest rose and fell quickly under his hand, his breathing fast as his racing heartbeat. But his mouth was a firm line, challenging Harrow silently. They had spent too many years as equals for him to be truly afraid of him, no matter how uncharacteristic Harrow’s actions were.

“It’s a good idea,” said Viren defiantly, colour rising on his high cheekbones.

Harrow scowled.  Viren scowled back at him, and scooted back along the bed until he wasn’t under harrow any longer, closer to the headboard of Harrow’s large bed. There was something off about his behavior; he scowled back at Harrow, but didn’t meet his eyes, and his face was flushed. As he watched, Viren bit his lip, and cast his eyes down.

Suspicious, Harrow let his eyes wander down Viren’s form. The mage closed his legs, shielding himself with his coat, but Harrow pounced on him again. This time he pinned Viren’s wrists to the covers, shoving his knee between Viren’s legs. He squirmed against Harrow, trying to close them, but Harrow held him firm.

“ _Your Majesty_ ,” Harrow reminded Viren, watching the dark flush crawl across his skin, and feeling his pulse jump. Viren bit his lip again, turning his face into his arm. Harrow watched him with narrowed eyes, and squeezed his wrists harder experimentally.

Viren let out a soft noise, mouth opening in a wet pant, and Harrow raised his brows. _That’s unexpected._

“Say it.” Harrow prompted.

Viren glanced at him quickly then looked away, and again he tried to close his legs against Harrow’s.

Harrow leaned closer. “Viren, If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were doing this on purpose.”

Viren bit his lip and didn’t answer, and Harrow’s lips thinned, anger still simmering close to the surface. Moving Viren’s wrists to one hand, he reached down and began to undo his belt. Beneath him, Viren’s eyes went wide.  He struggled for real, likely misinterpreting Harrow’s intentions. Harrow ignored his struggles, squeezing his wrists tight until Viren made a pained noise.

“Harrow—”

“ _Your Majesty,”_ Harrow corrected, standing on his knees and lifting Viren’s captured wrists. He wasn’t sure of his rational behind looping his belt around them, and by the time be pulled it tight, he knew he couldn’t justify the gesture. He was pushing past the voice in his mind asking what he was doing when he leaned forward to twist the end of the belt around the bedpost, tying it off. The mage lay sprawled beneath him when he was done, bound hands pulled above his head, clothing dishevelled and vest pulled partially open by their movements. His tightly buttoned black collar had come unbuttoned, showing a sliver of the bare hallow of his throat. He swallowed hard under Harrow’s gaze, and he watched his adam’s apple bob, and his pulse jump. Viren tugged against the leather, but Harrow’s knots held firm.

Viren looked up at him with wide grey eyes, lips parted as if in question. For once, he was silent, no defiant words for Harrow. Just looking up at him, panting softly, his lips coloured and swollen from his own teeth.

 Wordlessly, Harrow pressed his knee slowly up into Viren’s clothed erection.

“Did you think I wouldn’t notice?” he asked softly.

The energy between them shifted. Harrow was still angry. Angry that this might have been an angle Viren had been playing; perhaps angrier at the thought that this _wasn’t_ an angle. Viren may truly have been using their private time to push his agenda. His arousal at Harrow’s force and anger were just coincidence, something that surprised Viren as much as they had Harrow. Both options were terrible in their own way.

But now he was bound to Harrow’s bed, pupils blown wide with arousal, hard to the touch. Harrow leaned down once more, hand braced beside Viren’s head, and placed the other gently over his throat.

“You like this.”

The heavy swallow. How very hot Viren’s skin had become, glowing like an ember under his hand. Harrow curled his fingers over the thin skin of Viren’s throat, and Viren opened his mouth at the touch, so flushed. His beard scrapped across the top of Harrow’s hand as he swallowed again, quick panting breathes the only sound he made under Harrow’s hand. Viren looked embarrassed, almost ashamed of his own reaction; biting his lip and turning his gaze away, although there was no hiding how much he enjoyed the rough treatment.

“You have to tell me, Viren. Or this goes no farther.” Harrow said softly, easing up the pressure of his touches. He could see the thoughts as they spun through Viren’s head. The leather creaked softly as he flexed against it, twisting his hands then relaxing.

“H-your majesty,” Viren was breathless, for once the title not sounding mocking on his tongue. Heat gathered in Harrow, and he moved his hand slowly down Viren’s front, sliding it over his clothing until it rested on his stomach.

The mage is biting his lips again, this time looking at Harrow, eyes half closed and hazy. It was too easy to continue this strange exchange, just to see how much farther he could take Viren. His mage was already coming to pieces under his eyes, legs moving restlessly against Harrows, as he tugged on his bindings. Sweat dotting his hairline, with a heavy flush of arousal bringing colour to his pale face.

“What is it, Lord Viren?” Harrow asked, almost smiling.

Viren looked torn. He averted his eyes again, hands twisting with bent up anxieties.

“ …touch me.” He said, almost too softly for Harrow to hear.

“Speak up.”

Viren cast him a dagger of a look, mouth thinning, then said much louder, embarrassment clear across his face,

“ _Touch me_.”

Smiling, Harrow moved his hand lower, palming him over his clothing. Viren grunted at the contact, pushing his hips up into Harrow’s hand, Harrow’s belt jingling as Viren pulled against it. Harrow relented, and rubbed him properly, stoking down between Viren’s legs and letting him push against the heel of his palm and watched hungrily as Viren dropped his head back with a broken gasp, a lewd groan rising from his lips before he bit them again. Teeth sinking into his bottom lip until it was dark pink and swollen, like he’d been kissed breathless. But this was better.

“Is this what you want, Viren?” Harrow asked, voice rough. It was starting to get to him, anger burning away under the hotter fires of lust.

Viren nodded.

“ _Please,”_ he whispered.

It was such a soft, broken noise from him, Harrow had never heard him sound like that before. Shifting his weight to rest on his left arm , Harrow hovered over Viren, and nodded, once.

“Alright.” He said, surprised to find he sounded almost as out of it as Viren. The mage moved against the blankets, no longer trying to furtively close his legs to hide his excitement. Harrow nudged Viren’s thighs apart with his knee, and Viren spread them willingly, blushing so fetchingly as he hesitantly met Harrow’s eyes.

He was struck with the urge to kiss him, right then. To pause this strange intensity, and softened its edges with his own lips until Viren lay breathless beneath him. But it was too late to break the strange spell, and Viren was making soft little noises of want as he pushed his body into Harrow’s hand, teeth still sinking so harshly into his own lip.

Harrow let the impulse pass, for the moment, and pulled apart the ties of Viren’s dark pants, pulling aside his clothing artlessly until the mage was bared to the cool air of his chambers. Hard and flushed at the tip, moisture gathering at Harrow’s bare touch; he wrapped his hand around Viren’s cock and Viren’s head lolled against the covers, the softest of moans escaping.

He stroked him slowly, wanting those noises he kept biting back, kept swallowing.

“Speak up, lord Viren,” Harrow said, as he made a fist, and Viren tried to push his hips up into Harrow’s hand.

“M-Majesty, Majesty, H-Harrow—” it was like aa dam had broken, and all the sounds came flooding out. deep groans, accompanied by Harrow’s name, his title whispered in the same breathe. Then the moans; Harrow gave for every noise he pulled from him, and Viren gave back tenfold.

Spreading his legs for him, pushing into his touch, moving restlessly, constantly, back arched against the pull of his binds. Mouth parted around the most sinful of noises. Harrow’s name falling like rain from Viren’s lips, his sharp grey eyes unfocused, brows furrowed as he chased his pleasure. Asking Harrow for it, asking his _king_ for it.

When Viren came, it was almost a surprise; he’d been caught up in the show of his pleasure, and Viren sank his teeth hard into his lip again as Harrow stroked him through it, chest rising and falling in short, hard pants.

Then he went boneless, relaxing back against the wine red of Harrow’s coverlet, his hands – which hand been so tense, fingers fluttering like captive birds- going limp as Viren lay back, breathing hard, eyes closed.

Harrow wiped his hand on the bedding absently, transferring his weight, and brushed the backs of his fingers of his clean hand across Viren’s cheek. His eyes cracked open, and they were clear, without anger or disgust.

“Are you alright?” Harrow asked softly. Worry slowly forming, about what had just happened, everything leading up to it making it all so inappropriate—

“… it was very good, Harrow.” Viren said, equally soft. He blushed under Harrow’s surprised expression, averting his eyes.

“You—?"

“Liked it, yes, please untie me my hands are numb.”

Viren ignored Harrow’s looks as he freed his hands, and moved to sit up, But Harrow stopped him with a gentle touch.

“I really—” he began,

“Harrow I swear if you apologize for that I’m going to change my mind and leave.”

Harrow sat back, caught off guard.

“What do you mean?”

Viren simply sighed, and leaned forward, starting on the buttons of Harrow’s heavy doublet.

“You’re going to need a lot less of this.”

“ _Oh.”_

“Yes, oh.”


End file.
